


Keeper

by tropester



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Severus Snape, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Young Severus Snape, predatory behavior, purebloods being gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tropester/pseuds/tropester
Summary: Severus gets wrestled into some fancy dress robes and unwittingly catches the eye of someone he shouldn’t.





	Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing happens, but Severus is 15 while Igor is very much not.

There was a flat note to the champagne tonight, Lucius observed, running his tongue against his palate and wondering if it's just him or if any others noticed. It was a minor detail, but persistent enough that it threatened to mar his enthusiasm for his own event. Narcissa seemed deep in conversation with her sister at the moment, so he made a mental note to ask her later.

Cyrille seemed to be appreciating her glass, at least. Then again, the lady—while charming and as respectable as they came—previously had trouble distinguishing between a 200-Galleon vintage and a 5-sickle retail throwaway.

"You _must_ introduce us, Lucius," she was saying, before taking a sip from her flute. "I was promised a stronger stock of thestrals from my old breeder, but he's yet to deliver. I'm getting tired of waiting."

"I'm quite ready to," Lucius replied, "but you've yet to assure me you have a secure way of getting them in. Acquiring exotic creatures from Russia is different from your usual channels."

"Why don't you let me handle that detail myself?" Cyrille demurred. "You were happy enough to introduce the Averys to that East Asian artefact proprietor, I hear. And word has it that little Potions protege of yours is enjoying ingredients he really shouldn't be handling at all in this country."

Her gaze had drifted off to his side as she spoke the last sentence. Within a few seconds, Lucius felt Severus's awkward and nervous presence close by. "Lucius..." he heard the young man tentatively call 

Cyrille raised her brows at him and hid a coy smile behind her wine glass. _Your little mongrel needs you_, he could almost hear her say.

With a stiff smile, he murmured an off-hand "A moment, Severus." Honestly, do a half-blood a favour, and they made a nuisance of themselves. Severus should know better than to interrupt him while speaking with business associates.

"Lucius," Severus whispered again, but the note of true anxiety in his voice gave Lucius pause this time. He raised a finger to indicate a moment to Cyrille, who relented his company with a raised glass and wandered off to engage someone else. 

Before Lucius could give voice to his annoyance, Severus leaned in and said, "There is a man." He cast a look over his shoulder, keenly reminding Lucius of the unkempt little boy he’d been in his school robes, seeking enemies in shadows. None of that anymore, of course. Despite the boy’s unfortunate upbringing, Severus wore luxurious, dark dress robes like a second skin, as showcased to great effect this night. "One of the Bulgarians. He keeps asking me questions."

Lucius waited for more, but that seemed to be it. He raised an eyebrow. "It is natural to be curious, Severus. They know you have the Dark Lord's favour. Many of these people have heard much of you, but seen little."

This seemed to give Severus pause, as if he'd never considered that. Lucius resisted the urge to sigh to the heavens. As if he had any other compelling reason to insist that the boy started acclimating to Pureblood gatherings.

Still, Severus looked nervous and uncertain. After another paranoid look over his shoulder, he said, "His questions are...invasive."

Lucius stared a moment too long, taking his meaning but having trouble grasping it in context. _Who in the world..._ He scanned the guests behind the boy, trying to catch sight of which one could possibly—

_Oh, dear_. Lucius resisted the urge to laugh. His young friend was already frowning darkly at him. _Severus truly is a foal lost amongst wolves tonight._

Perhaps he’d dressed Severus a _little_ too well, he mulled, as he caught Igor Karkaroff’s piercing gaze across the lawn and tilted his head pointedly towards the buffet table.

"He is younger than he looks, Igor," Lucius said without preamble when Igor strolled over. "Leave him alone for a year or two perhaps, hm?"

"You've kept this one hidden," Igor accused. "You've a wife. Positively selfish of you, my friend."

A corner of Lucius’s lips curled disdainfully. "Keep your vulgarities to yourself, if you please. My wife remains the one and only fire in my life."

"I find him arresting." There was little doubt as to whom Igor’s eyes were following. Lucius turned his head to catch Severus ducking past guests and taking refuge in the garden, likely heading for the hidden passageway he wasn’t supposed to know about that led to the library. "Not as _fanciful_ as the company you often keep, but those eyes, that moon-pale skin...yes, he pleases me."

Lucius wished he could drown himself in a vat of merlot right about now. While Igor’s taste for young flesh was a well-known thing, often skirting but never quite crossing the lines of legality, Lucius had never understood it, and had no desire to. That Severus, of all people, would be the subject of it one day never even crossed his mind, and he was surprised to find himself oddly protective of the insolent, unattractive youth. 

"Pleasing to you or not, he’s under _my_ purview," he said, adding some steel to his voice. From the other man’s expression, he didn’t find it very intimidating. "Set your sights elsewhere for now."

Igor stared at him for a moment, considering. "A year, you say."

"Two," Lucius bit out. "I know they do things _quite_ differently in Bulgaria—"

"No need to cast aspersions."

"—but here, you will have to exercise some patience."

An unhappy expression crossed Igor’s face, but after a pause where he looked darkly at the entrance to the garden path, he relented. "Very well. Writing to him is acceptable?"

Lucius shrugged. "Shower him with gifts if you like. Nothing further."

"Has he no parents?" Igor asked, once again turning his accusing gaze towards his host. "Why are you his keeper?"

He chewed on how much of Severus’s background he could be free with, but there was nothing he could say that Igor couldn’t dig up just by asking anyone from Severus’s year. And he rather resented the implication that he was rummaging among the dregs of society for his Potions prodigies, genius or no. "His mother, who by all accounts was a _proper_ witch, fell in with a destitute, violent Muggle. We’ve some ties to the Prince line, and his education thus far has needed steering."

"Ah." Lucius found himself regretting being so upfront. If anything, the predatory gleam in Igor’s eyes became more focused. "Unfortunate."

"Quite." Aware that his control of the conversation was severely lacking, Lucius firmed his lips and said in his most dismissive tone, "Leave the boy alone for now."

"For now." Igor canted his head with a smirk. "Evening, Lucius."

Lucius bid him a good evening as well, walked off, and drowned his impolite mutter behind a generous mouthful of alcohol. 

Narcissa found him in the grand hallway later, right after he gave Dobby orders to tell him if anyone disturbed Severus in the library. The infuriating urchin had holed himself there again, thinking no one would notice. While part of Lucius wanted to hit him with his cane, he was willing to tolerate Severus’s antisocial habits this one night.

"Plotting again, husband?" Narcissa asked, while looping her arm around his and leading him back outside.

"Always, dear heart." He caught sight of Igor’s fur-ladened figure near the chocolate fountain, in conference with an instructor from Beauxbatons. Granted the man was keeping to his word, and Lucius truly had no reason to doubt it, but the flow of wine was unstoppered all evening, and none of his superiors were present in the party. The man tended to curb his behaviour under the watchful eyes of his Bulgarian colleagues. "What do you think of our Karkaroff over there making overtures towards Severus?"

The expression Narcissa wore was reminiscent of Lucius’s incredulity earlier when Severus first spoke to him. "Serious ones, or...?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." Narcissa hummed thoughtfully. "If they are _merely_ overtures. Word has it Karkaroff treats his boys well. Perhaps being desired will do wonders for Severus’s temperament. Igor is aware of his blood status?"

"He wishes to _fuck_ him, Cissy, not impregnate him." At the pointed look Narcissa gave him, a corner of Lucius's lips quirked up as he amended, "Presumably."

Her hard stare didn’t relent. "He’s too young for either, I hope you made it clear."

"Quite, but Igor’s been underhanded before." And taken advantage of the many regional differences across Wizarding Europe regarding ages of consent. Lucius repressed a shiver. "Severus is no fool, but sweet words and shows of kindness tend to sway him. I can’t help but worry."

"Yes, we know how few defenses Severus has against those, don’t we?" Lucius caught the teasing note in Naricssa’s voice and smirked. Not like he could deny it, how he had used that very weakness to gain Severus’s devotion. "I’ll have a little chat with him, worry not. I doubt he has it in him to play Igor while giving nothing of himself away, but I’ll ensure he has the upper hand when it’s time."

"When it’s time," Lucius echoed, raising his glass to that.

End


End file.
